Sunday, April 15, 2012

Tissue toilet cover and Flemish headdresses

This Saturday was not the first time I laid eyes on Nina Katchadourian. I met her once before during a one-month intensive summer class in New York. While the rest of our visits were to the studios of a variety of artists, Nina Katchadourian generously invited us to her Brooklyn apartment. Sitting in her sofa we watched a slide show and listened to her as she spoke freely about her art practice. It didn’t take me long to realize that she is an artist motivated by her curiosity and perhaps even her restlessness. Her art has a certain fresh flair of spontaneity. The work presently exhibited at Catharine Clark Gallery in San Francisco, titled “Seat Assignment,” most definitely could be described as such.


I personally have a very hard time being productive when I’m flying. I always plan to get a lot of work done, but I eventually end up just staring out the window, dozing off. To the outmost I might actually open up a book and read a couple of pages before I doze off again. Nina Katchadourian has managed to do what I would only dream of. She has created, and is still creating, a body of work that uses the time spent on airplane as an opportunity for productivity. “Seat Assignment: Lavatory Self-Portraits in the Flemish Style” started as an unintentional lavatory art project during a domestic flight. Today it is part of a more extensive project including over 2 500 photographs and video, made on more that 70 flights.

On her website she writes, “while in the lavatory on a domestic flight in March 2010, I spontaneously put a tissue paper toilet cover seat cover over my head and took a picture in the mirror using my cellphone.” Looking at the image she realized that it resembled 15th-century Flemish portraiture paintings and the discovery motivated her to continue explore what the plain had to offer in terms of different kinds of headdresses. When she landed 14 hours later she had a whole new set of photographs that partly can be seen hanging on the appropriate red-painted walls at Catharine Clark. The whole setup recalls Western traditional painting galleries where even the frames have a historical dignity to them.

In the Flemish paintings they typically set their models in front of a dark background. It is uniform and nondescript. Nina Katchadourian, who was wearing a thin black scarf on that flight, decided to hang it up behind her, and in that way recreate its neutral but dramatic backdrop. Even though it was a project that came on a whim, it is quite clear that the paintings of the old masters must have made a strong imprint on her. She did after all manage to replicate a dozen of its more typical headdresses and postures.

The exhibition at Catharine Clark will be up until May 26, 2012.

Monday, April 9, 2012

That stupid list of artistic goals

I’m going to start off by generalizing the idea of the artist. An artist wants to be special. Wants to be something more than “the man about town.” What’s the fun in being ordinary anyway? But as I recently graduated from an artistic graduate program I have to say that emerging artists think and behave pretty much the same. Make a list of artistic goals and it becomes scarily obvious that everyone from a specific region is hoping to take the same steps in reaching an artistic career.


This insight became uncomfortable exposed as I visited Yokonori Stone’s solo exhibition “Welcome to the Tenderloin” at Ever Gold Gallery in San Francisco. One of the first paintings I encountered was titled “a plan for success in San Francisco (with updates).” It shows a painted sheet of lined paper containing a handwritten list of artistic goals for the upcoming five year:


get and m.f.a. from sfai cca
do a residency at the Headlands
get a show at Adobe Books or the Luggage Store
be included in Bay Area Now
sign on with Jack Hanley Ratio 3
get a S.E.C.A award
etc.

At first the painting made me happy. My former classmates and I immediately began to talk about that list and how we all could relate to it. We started to think about how many checks we ourselves could make on that list – or a very similar list. That’s when a growing sense of unease began to surface. Why would we all have lists with so many reoccurring names? We weren’t even artists working within similar fields. And that same art piece went from making me happy to making me immensely sad. I didn’t want to be that artist who so easily could be put into a post-graduate system of artistic goals.

* most of that so called conversation between me an my former classmates only occurred in my own head …